People. There were people out here—or at least, there had been, once upon a time.
“We don’t have time to loiter.” I retracted my hand and tested the bridge. It felt sturdy.
And even were it not, I had little choice. The crow had flown to its other side.
My boots thudded on the bridge, hollow and dull. Silence wrapped the chasm in its embrace. Each step was louder than the last.
Blood rushed through my ears like a warning. The crow swooped around and flew to my side. Warning me.
A thunderclap exploded beneath me—an enormous pair of wings beat, lifting a dragon through the darkness below. Its wings hugged its black-scaled body, then expanded as it circled around to land on the other side of the bridge.
The ground quaked beneath its feet, its talons dug gouges through the dirt. Eyes dark as the night glared at me.
My fingers curled around Cierthine’s hilt.
“I don’t like its look,” Brighid whispered, eyes wide. “Will this one bow its head, too?”
The dragon lowered its head, sniffing the air. Its motions were different from those of the other beasts. Some had run around me, like I was invisible. Others had taken in my scent and turned the other way.
This one acted no differently from a wolf that lived north of the wall. Defensive. Hostile.
It took a step forward, claws wrapping around the broken pillar flanking the bridge’s other side.
I doubted I was ready to fight a dragon. But if it insisted on standing between Liam and me, then I had little choice. Raising Cierthine, I held my breath.
The dragon tilted its head, watching me. Intelligence gleamed within its onyx eyes.
White teeth broke up the darkness as it snarled—not like a defensive wolf fending off danger, but a man toying with its prey.
A song rose through the air, haunting and inhuman.
I recognized it instantly—a scáde.
The humming crescendoed as a much smaller dragon soared from the east and landed on the dragon’s other side. Beautifulpink colors shaded its underwings, twin pairs attached to its back. Thin antlers rose from its eyeless head, and its throat warbled with song.
The dragon whirled around, snapping at it. Backing out of its reach, the scáde heightened its song.
And others answered.
From the south to the west. Faint and distant, scádes joined their voices together in an eerie harmony. My bones vibrated with their voice, and Brighid grabbed her head and fell to her knees.
The dragon backed away, shaking its head. Its eyes glazed over, turning milky white. Wind swept over us, nearly knocking me down as it spread its wings and took flight—diving back into the abyss from which it had come.
Grabbing Brighid’s arm, I pulled her the rest of the way across the bridge. The scáde bounded away from us, diving into the woods.
“Wait!” I called.
The scáde froze. Its long neck curled around, and it regarded me with its eyeless face.
My breath caught. I recognized it. This was the same creature from the glade by Tsuyan—the scáde I’d begged to flee, lest I be forced to slay it.
Brighid recognized him, too. “This is the same one, isn’t it?” She extended a cautious hand toward its head.
The scáde looked toward me, as though seeking approval. I nodded, and it relaxed.
A thought turned in my stomach. Maybe it was not the monsters of the dark that spared my life. Maybe it had only ever been the scáde—for the beasts of the shadows had been under its command.
But why?
